Page 44 of The Knight

It's time I figure out what I'm going to do without them and their help behind me. I need to know if I can stand on my own in this, the fight that matters most of all, one only I can finish.

Georgia was right. Some things are best left to us girls.

* * *

Early the next morning, I get up before Holly—an achievement all on its own—and slip out the door, needing time and space to think. Part of me wishes I could talk to Holly herself about this, but whatever our rekindled relationship is, it's not quite friendship. At least not yet, and even then, I don't know if we'll ever have the kind of friendship where we can talk about the things I'm doing with the Elites.

Maybe if I'd never stolen from her. Or if she'd never found out—a selfish thought I cringe I even let myself consider. But at the end of the day there's no forcing friendship, especially one like this. I have to just let myself accept the fact that I'm lucky Holly even lets me live with her now.

Pulling my coat on, I head out towards the front steps of Rosalind Hall and take them down two at a time. The air is cold with winter and the recent night, the sun still rising on the horizon. Around me a strong wind whips through the stripped branches of the old oak trees, yellow and orange autumnal leaves fluttering through the air. I flip my jacket collar up as the wind bites into me, wishing I had one of the down jackets I've seen rich Coleridge kids put on, effortlessly warm and fashionable.

I haven't yet decided if I can trust Georgia.

It's not just that it's unwise—I've heard the tale of the scorpion and the frog. It's also the fact that whenever I think of taking her hand and agreeing to testify with her, the fire inside me growls and snarls, rising up in anger.

It was one thing to reluctantly work with the Elites against Hass.

Teaming up with Georgia would be another thing entirely. She didn't try to chase me away from campus out of a misguided worry for my safety or the desire to get me to stop digging. Her only motivation was cruelty, pure and simple. And she changes with whatever way the wind blows. Working with her means accepting that she's unpredictable and uninterested in my safety. It's a dangerous thing.

But the only path forward that I can see. Without her, I'll just be a lone witness to Hass's crimes, and I doubt anyone who matters will give a damn, even with the Elites backing me up. All their vague references seem to suggest that the enemy we're up against is much bigger than Hass and his rich parents. The disgraced governor has something to do with it, along with that girl in his son's trunk and the police chief told not to look into my identity fraud.

More than one person is at the top of this pyramid looking down, holding impossible amounts of power in their hands, wielding it against anyone they see fit to strike down. All I have between me and them are four cruel boys who've kissed me and cursed me in turns, and a girl with red hair who loathes me like it's a full-time job.

The part of it that stings the most is knowing that they're all I'll ever have in this, and that I deserve them, because we're more alike than I want to believe. Their cruelty, their pettiness, all of it lives in me. Fuels me. Makes me betray people who are better, more pure than me.

I find myself wandering off the beaten, paved paths of Coleridge's campus, towards uneven ground that hasn't been tamed. I've walked far enough from the residence halls that I'm getting close to the visitors center now, and with it the wolves. Even though my disastrous night with the four predators was more cold and exhausting than frightening, I haven't been able to bring myself back since. Walking past them reminds me of four other predators I'm now trapped with, for good or ill.

Curving past the tall fence that keeps the wolves in, I find a sloping path, unpaved, that leads towards the rear part of the grounds. My calves are starting to ache, along with my lungs and throat; the cold air and sloping ground is challenging. Unlike Holly and some of the other girls here, I only exercise when forced to, and don't own hundreds of dollars worth of athletic wear to cushion my feet and keep my ears warm. I hate that I'm so different from them. Maybe if Georgia and I were alike in other ways I would know how to trust her. As it is, I only see the worst parts of me, and the best of her, when I look at her freckled face and bright red hair.

The ground beneath my shoes is covered in a thick layer of fallen pine needles. They cushion my steps, and as I walk down a steeper slope, start to slide beneath my feet. Grabbing a nearby tree trunk, I'm struck by the ribbon of red plastic sticking out of it, like some kind of tape or rope was yanked away and left some part of itself behind. The sight nags at part of my mind, but I can't figure out what it is, so I move on.

Walking through the trees reminds me of that scorching kiss with Blake—the first and the ones that followed it, his body responding to mine. I don't think he faked his attraction to me, but I have no idea what to think of the rest.

A boy like him falling in love with a girl like me must be a colossal joke. A mistake. Some kind of game or lie.

But he watched for me, to make sure I was safe.

He worries for me.

So does Lukas. Even Cole seems to want to protect me—though from what, he'll never say. Tanner... is a feral beast unto himself, impossible to predict. They care for me, though. I've seen it since everything changed the night of the storm. It wasn't just cruelty that made them try to push me away.

I don't know why my heart races when I think of them. I don't understand why the thought of kissing one makes me worry what the other three will think. Some part of me must have gone mad the night of the kidnapping, my good senses leaving me along with my presence of mind when the chloroform hit my bloodstream.

I keep moving through the woods, past the tame part of campus, because the alternative is standing here with my thoughts and going slowly mad. In the distance, I can see the fence, barbed wire and concrete posts. I can't even tell anymore if it's meant to keep others out or us in.

Something gives beneath my foot.

Yelling in surprise, I look down to see that the ground has softened and slid out from beneath my. My ankle rolls to one side, useless beaten-up tennis shoes doing nothing to support my foot.

Cringing, I try to step away from the soft ground—

And the earth itself falls away beneath my feet, dropping me down into a deep, dark pit several feet down.

Chapter 19

Darkness. That's all that I can sense at first, along with the cold wet of earth all around me, soft beneath my searching fingers. Above me, I can see the distant, cloudy winter sky, and I force myself to stand on my twisted ankle and reach up towards it.

My arms aren't long enough to grab the top.

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